Of Innocence & Irony
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: One cold rainy night in September, Harry and Ginny are surprised by a sudden arrival and some shocking news.


A.N: For the sake of not getting a load of PM's explaining what I've done wrong, I thought I'd make some obvious changes here! So, initially, I had this idea before JK released the information about Dudley having two children. So for this AU, Dudley only has one child. Also, just in case anyone needs to point this out: I like to think that the Ministry would be aware of a muggle-born witch or wizard from a young age, if they come into contact with them.

* * *

It always seemed to rain heavier in September. A grey fog mulled over the quiet street in Godric's Hollow, and the clouds hung heavy and thick in the air, threatening and demeaning the residents below with their gloomy splendour. In the early hours of that fateful September morning, the only sounds to be heard was the pitter-patter of rain on the gravel, the howl of the wind shrieking through the gaps in the window panes, and the distinct whimpering of a year-old baby, that had been placed in a bundle in the porch of the Potter residence.

Ginny, who had not given birth since three years ago, heard the unusual noise immediately. Her youngest, Lily, had not cried out in the night since she was a tiny baby, so the sobbing came as a surprise. She rose in their marital bed, raking her fingers through her long, sunset-coloured hair, and looked over at the window. The curtains were half-drawn, exposing the rain-splattered glass, a soft glow of streetlight seeping through. She stood up and walked over to the window, peering through the smudged glass.

Her husband groaned in his sleep and reached out into the space where she had been previously laid. When his arms didn't make contact with her, his green eyes fluttered open, and he blinked groggily around the room, his pupils unfocused. "Ginny?" he murmured, struggling into a sitting position and rubbing the back of his scruffy head. "What are you doing?"

Ginny put a finger to her lips and gestured to the wall, indicating that their three children would be sleeping. He climbed out of bed and wandered over to her, but she held him away when he tried to wrap his arms around her frame and drag her back into the warmth of the bed. "There's something out there."

They both looked out into the night. The rain had only become louder and more aggressive, but Ginny noticed the wailing had become louder, too. She looked at Harry, waiting for a flicker of realisation to spark on his features, but there was nothing; just dull sleepiness. "I can't hear anything, Ginny. Come back to bed."

"_Listen_," Ginny hissed, glaring at him. He looked back at the window.

A particularly loud cry pieced the night, and it was like Harry had been given an electric shock. He jerked into action, seizing a t-shirt and throwing it onto his person, and grabbing his wand and glasses from the bedside table. As he charged down the stairs, he one-handedly managed to get his spectacles onto his face, and Ginny was hot on his heels.

When he reached the door and wrenched it open, he almost tripped over the shrieking bundle that was on the porch. He froze, one leg in suspension, and stared down at it. Ginny gasped, and scrambled around Harry until she reached the baby. She picked the child up and clasped it to her chest, using her other hand to pull Harry back inside and out of the rain.

They stood together in the hallway, both with the same confused expressions on their faces. Ginny held out the baby to Harry, which had quietened since being picked up. There was a note attached to the blanket, which Harry plucked off delicately. He read the note out loud, in a slow, shuddering voice.

"To Mr and Mrs Potter,

It is with regret that we write to you to alert you of the deaths of a Mr Dudley Dursey, along with his wife, Mrs Veronica Dursley. The two perished in a fatal car accident in London yesterday at approximately eleven thirty-three in the evening.

This child, named William Dursley, is the first and only child of Mr Dudley Dursley and Mrs Veronica Dursley. It is known to us at the Ministry of Magic that Master William Dursley has inherited magical blood and is therefore, muggle-born.

Being Dudley Dursely's only magical relatives, we have called upon you to take care of the child, and raise him as your own.

Hoping you are well,

Miranda Cresswell."

Harry swallowed and dropped the letter when he had finished reading it. So Dudley was dead, as was his new wife. They had only been married a few weeks, having had a shotgun wedding while Veronica was pregnant, and Ginny and Harry had been invited to the reception. That was the last time that Harry had seen Dudley.

Of course, the Ministry of Magic wouldn't want a magical child to live with muggles like Vernon and Petunia, who had of course, raised Harry until he went to Hogwarts. Plus, the Dursley's were getting older now. It might just kill them off to have to raise _another _wizard child.

There was no doubt that Harry and Ginny would raise the baby, but as they wandered up the stairs, and Ginny began summoning a spare cot and blanket, Harry couldn't help but wonder how unusual and ironic this situation was. The Dursley's, of all people, had given birth to a muggle-born. This baby, who was a part of Dudley, would grow up to be a _wizard_. The situation seemed too similar to how Harry had come to arrive at the Durlsey's residence, all those years ago.

As Ginny tucked William up into the cot that was now placed beside their own bed, Harry loomed over the quiet baby, who blinked back up at him with thick, watery eyelashes. All in one moment, he remembered how much he despised living with the Dursley's, and how terribly they treated him.

And as he pressed a kiss to the forehead of his nephew, he silently promised the innocent child that he would be raised as one of his own. He would be a brother to Lily, James and Albus, and he would be treated properly and like an equal.

It seemed too much like this was Harry's test, but he was sure he could pull it off. He could raise the Dursley child into a brilliant wizard – there were no doubts in his mind about that. And he hoped, deep down, that Dudley would be proud of his son, whether he was a wizard or not.


End file.
